


happy birthday, el

by kinneyb



Series: giving back [5]
Category: The Magicians (TV), The Magicians - Lev Grossman
Genre: Fae & Fairies, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-20 03:28:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20221039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinneyb/pseuds/kinneyb
Summary: It's Eliot's birthday; fairy!Quentin and Margo plan his party. Eliot, of course, loves everything.





	happy birthday, el

**Author's Note:**

> Reminder: please go to my Twitter and check out my pinned Tweet!  
Twitter.com/queermight

Margo stood in the doorway to the kitchen, leaning against the frame with a fond smile on her face. She watched as her favorite little fairy flew around the kitchen, collecting ingredients and plopping them on the counter.

“You know,” she said, “I really don’t mind helping.”

Quentin dropped to the counter. “I told you,” he said firmly. “I want to do this.”

“Right, right, sorry,” she laughed softly. Quentin could be surprisingly stubborn.

Eliot was out for the day, and it was just the two of them. For the third day in a row, they were preparing for Eliot’s birthday (despite his protests about not needing a party or gifts or anything of the sort). Margo admittedly thought it was kind of endearing the way Quentin had claimed he wanted to make the cake a few days earlier.

“I need to buy just a couple more things,” Margo said. “Will you be okay?”

Quentin grabbed a mixing bowl and carefully placed it on the counter. He nodded curtly. “I’m going to make him the biggest, tastiest cake in the entire world,” he claimed.

Margo covered her mouth, giggling softly. “Okay, Q,” she said. “Be safe.”

When she returned a couple hours later, the layers of the cake were finishing up and Quentin excitedly showed her.

“Wow,” she said, grinning. “You’re really gonna show Eliot up at his own party?”

Quentin gasped lightly. “I didn’t - “

Margo laughed sharply and patted his head with one of her fingers. “I’m kidding, Q. Oh, I grabbed you the stuff you wanted,” she said, turning away and rustling through her bags. She pulled out a few containers of icing - purple, Eliot’s favorite color - and a bottle of metallic cold and silver sprinkles. “You surprisingly have good taste,” she said with a wink, placing them on the counter.

“You think?” he asked genuinely, chewing on his bottom lip.

Margo smiled softly and ruffled his hair. “He’s going to love it,” she said, eyes sparkling. “Now, I have a few questions about the decorations.” She pulled out a few bags of streamers. “Purple or silver streamers?”

Quentin’s wings fluttered lightly. “Both,” he said eventually.

“That’s what I was thinking,” she said, winking again.

The sound of the front door startled Quentin. “Oh,” he said, scrambling. “I - “

Margo quickly grabbed the lid for the cake holder and placed it on top just as Eliot entered the small kitchen, tugging off his jacket.

“Q, Bambi,” he greeted, smiling brightly. Quentin smiled back, beaming. His eyes naturally flickered to the cake holder and he laughed, shaking his head fondly. “I told you guys you didn’t have to anything for my birthday.“

Margo smacked his arm lightly. “Maybe this has nothing to do with you.”

He stared at her for a moment before glancing at Quentin with warm eyes. “Sure,” he said finally, suppressing a grin. “I’ll also pretend like that _isn’t_ my cake holder,” he added with another laugh.

“I’m sorry for not asking!” Quentin squeaked, blushing.

Eliot ruffled his hair. “Don’t worry about it,” he assured him genuinely. “Now, while you two scheme, _I_ need a good nap.” He leaned over and pecked Margo on the cheek before pressing a kiss to the top of Quentin’s head. “Good luck with your...” he winked, “secret project.”

++

Quentin finished the cake the night before the party. He quickly fetched Margo and showed her, buzzing around the kitchen excitedly. He was exhausted from working on the cake all day and night; his apron - a tiny replica of Eliot's that Margo had made for him - was covered in icing and his hair was messily thrown back in a bun. Also courtesy of Margo.

"Wow,” she said, “it’s... _beautiful_.”

The cake really was beautiful, decorated with purple icing and silver and gold sprinkles around the edges. In the middle Quentin had even written ‘Happy Birthday, Eliot’ in white icing. He had surprisingly good handwriting, Margo noted idly.

“And big,” Quentin said confidently. “I told you.”

Margo snickered and flicked him in the forehead. Playfully, of course, but Quentin stumbled back a few steps anyway. “Okay, calm down, Chef Ramsay.” She grinned. “And just in time for the party.”

“Do...” he fidgeted with his wings. “Do you think Eliot will like it?”

Margo leaned down. “He’s going to love it,” she said sincerely. “But,” she scooped Quentin up and placed him on her shoulder. “I think it’s about time you got some sleep.” She covered the cake back up and walked to the door, flipping the lights off.

Quentin yawned. “I can’t wait,” he grumbled tiredly, “to see Eliot’s reaction.”

“In the morning,” she chided softly.

++

The morning of the party, he grabbed Eliot by the thumb and dragged him into the kitchen. Not really, of course, he couldn’t drag a fly, but Eliot followed after him anyway, laughing.

“Okay,” he said, fluttering his wings excitedly. “I - I hope you’re not disappointed.”

Eliot smiled softly. “Never,” he assured him, honestly.

Even if the cake was ugly or disgusting, Eliot would love it.

Quentin flew up and slowly pulled the lid off. He closed his eyes and waited.

“Jesus Christ,” Eliot said after a few beats.

Quentin opened his eyes. “Oh, no,” he said. “Did - did I do something wrong?”

Eliot was crying. Well, not exactly, but he was tearing up and Quentin couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Eliot do that, if ever. He flew closer just as Eliot smiled brightly, wiping his eyes. “No, Q, this is - you did amazing,” he said, licking his lips. “I honestly... I didn’t know you paid so much attention in the kitchen."

“Of course I do,” he said, genuinely shocked. “I love watching you cook, El.”

Eliot laughed softly. “Thank you. I - I don’t know what to say.” He cleared his throat. “And, look, you even used those sprinkles I pointed out, like, months ago.” He had debated using them for a recipe of his own, mostly just because he thought they were so beautiful.

Quentin fluttered his wings happily and flew down, closer, to the cake. He started animatedly talking about why he choose what he did for the decorations. “And, of course,” he said, puffing his chest, “purple for the frosting because I know it’s your favorite - “

He flew just a little too low and the bottom of one of his wings caught in the frosting, and he gasped, dropping on the cake with a nasty plop.

“Q,” Eliot said quickly, leaning over him. “Are you okay?”

Quentin tried sitting up but the frosting was too sticky. “I’m - I’m stuck.”

“Oh,” Eliot reached down and gently picked him up, placing him on the counter. Quentin tried flapping his wings, but the frosting weighed them down significantly. “One second,” Eliot said as he walked over and grabbed a napkin, wetting it. He walked back over and frowned when he saw Quentin staring at the cake with wide, watery eyes. “Hey.”

Quentin sniffed loudly. “I ruined it,” he said sadly. There was a huge imprint of Quentin’s body in the middle of the cake. “I’m - “ he glanced at Eliot, tears spilling down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry,” he said, hiccuping.

Eliot thought the whole thing was oddly endearing.

“No, no,” he quickly assured him. “You’re okay, Q. This is nothing.”

Quentin rubbed at his eyes roughly. “But...” he trailed off, frowning. “I even ruined your name,” he added after a moment.

“Here,” Eliot reached down and gently cleaned his wings. “We can fix this.” A few minutes later, with the help of a lot of frosting, they had mostly fixed it. “See,” he said. “No problem.”

“But you had to fix your own birthday cake,” he muttered pitifully.

Eliot shushed him softly. “Come on,” he picked Quentin up and stood there for a moment. “Look, the cake is perfect.”

“Yeah?” Quentin asked, a bit shy.

"Yeah," Eliot confirmed, ruffling his hair.

++

Margo and Quentin decorated while Eliot was getting ready. When the shower turned off, they both scurried up the stairs.

“Close your eyes,” Quentin commanded firmly.

Eliot rolled his eyes fondly. “You guys are so - “

“Think carefully about what word you use next,” Margo interrupted, pointing a finger.

Eliot laughed sharply. “_Wonderful_,” he said, eyes sparkling.

“Come on, come on,” Quentin said, grabbing the hem of his shirt and tugging. “Guests should be arriving soon.”

Eliot looked over at Margo as they all walked down the stairs. “Guests?”

“I might’ve invited a few of our friends,” she said, shrugging. “But don’t worry,” she smiled down at Quentin, soft and just a tad protective. “Only people we can trust.”

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Eliot blinked, genuinely surprised by the whole thing. Margo had obviously used a bit of magic to get everything set up so quickly; there were balloons littering the floor - purple, silver, and gold - and streamers, too. A table Eliot had frankly never seen before was set up in the middle of the living area, the couch and chairs were suspiciously nowhere to be seen. Probably also a result of magic.

“Wow,” he said. “This is...”

Margo pressed up against his side and grinned like a shark. “Impressive?”

“Everything you do is impressive,” he replied easily and threw an arm around her. He patted his shoulder and Quentin landed on it. “Thank you. Both of you. I... this is different,” he admitted. Most of his parties after his childhood had involved lots of drugs and sex. This was different, but oddly nice. “I know I don’t say this enough.” He cleared his throat. “But I love you, Bambi,” he kissed her hair and turned, nuzzling Quentin, “Q.”

Quentin’s wings fluttered excitedly. “I - I got you a present,” he blurted, and Margo grinned at the blush on his face.

“Yeah?” Eliot asked, eyes sparkling.

Margo rolled her eyes fondly. “Later, Q,” she reminded him gently.

“Oh.” Quentin nodded. “Right.”

Slowly, people started showing up. Quentin was, well... nervous was an understatement. He’d never really met any of their friends.

“Oh my God,” the first person was a beautiful bespectacled girl. “You’re so cute.” She cleared her throat, blushing. “Uh, hi. I’m Alice.”

The second was a guy named Josh, who apparently was also a chef.

Then, Kady and Penny - they were nice, but kind of intimidating.

Lastly, another beautiful girl with wavy, long brown hair and impossibly kind eyes. Quentin liked her immediately.

“Julia,” she introduced herself, smiling sweetly.

Quentin beamed, fluttering his wings happily. “Quentin, but you can call me Q.”

After about twenty minutes of chatting and drinking, Margo stepped up onto the first step of the stairs and cleared her throat. "Now, ladies and gents," she said, clapping her hands together. "Time for the main event," her eyes sparkled, "cake!" She gestured Quentin over. "Made by Quentin."

Margo disappeared into the kitchen and grabbed the cake off the counter, considering it was too heavy for Quentin. She returned a few seconds later and placed the cake on the table, pulling the lid off with flair.

"Wow," Julia said, smiling brightly at Quentin. "You did an amazing job."

Quentin blushed and smiled shyly before rushing over to be by Eliot. Eliot smiled softly, understanding, and picked him up, setting him on his shoulder. Quentin sighed contently and sat down, watching as Margo gave each guest a piece of cake. He was admittedly nervous, watching as the first person - Alice - took a bite. Her eyes lit up.

"This is... amazing," she said, quietly. "I - you really made this?"

Quentin scooted, pressing up against Eliot's neck and hiding under his hair. He nodded mutely. He was happy, but overwhelmed. In all the best ways.

"Sorry," Eliot said, laughing. "He's just a little shy."

Josh sighed. "This is so good," he said. "Like, I need the recipe ASAP."

Slowly, Quentin wiggled out from under Eliot's hair and dropped onto the table, sitting. He stared up at Eliot expectantly. Eliot grinned, understanding again, and took a large bite, chewing slowly. Wow.

"Q," he said, narrowing his eyes. "Are you trying to steal my job?"

Quentin grinned, beaming. "You really think it's good?" he asked with wide, sparkly eyes.

"_Good?_" Margo said from her spot. "Don't sell yourself short, little Q."

++

About an hour later, they all sat down and watched as Eliot opened his gifts. He opened his gifts from Alice and the others first before sitting back and watching as Quentin fluttered away before returning a few seconds later with a surprisingly small box. He smiled shyly. "Here."

Eliot raised both eyebrows and curiously took it. He didn't care what was in the box, obviously. Just having Quentin here with him was a gift. (Eliot would never say such cheesy words, though.)

He licked his lips and glanced down, opening the box. Quentin squeaked nervously and landed in Margo's lap, watching.

In the box was a necklace - a simple, silver chain. That wasn't what caught Eliot's eye, though. On the necklace were three charms: wings, a spatula, and lipstick - all silver. Eliot blinked a few times. He was not about to cry twice in the same day. He cleared his throat and looked up.

"Because, um. I don't know," Quentin said, fidgeting with his wings nervously. "You said once you considered us your family, and I thought - " he cut himself off, blushing. "But it's - it's okay if you don't like it!"

Margo reached down and pet his hair. "Q," she said softly.

Eliot smiled at her, and she smiled back.

"Quentin," he said, pulling the chain out of the box. "Will you put it on for me?"

He flew off Margo's lap and circled around to the back of Eliot's neck. He struggled for a few seconds with his tiny hands before finally he clasped it. He quickly flew back around and watched as Eliot took the charms in his hands, admiring them. His eyes were wide and watery. He hoped that was a good sign.

"Okay." Margo stood up and clapped her hands together. "Everyone," she pointed at the door. "Time to move the party outside." A few groans. "Enough complaining. Go on." She ushered everyone outside, quick in the way only Margo could do, and smiled at the pair before closing the door.

"Thank you," he said, barely a whisper. He looked up and smiled widely. "Q, thank you," he repeated, even softer. "Not just for this, but everything."

Quentin squirmed, wings flapping. "_I_ should be thanking _you_," he said, "for saving me in the first place. I was so scared I was gonna die, but..." he frowned. "Even before that, I didn't have a real family. Or friends." He peered up at Eliot. "I was always kind of bullied by the other fairies, but you saved me, El, and gave me a home." He blushed, looking away. "And a family."

Eliot extended a hand, and Quentin knowingly landed it. "I think we saved each other."

"That's - " Quentin sniffed, rubbing his eyes " - really, really sappy, especially for you."

Eliot grinned, a few tears rolling down his cheeks. "It's my birthday. I'm allowed to be sappy if I want."


End file.
